


Forget me not

by redqueenrises



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-08
Updated: 2021-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-18 18:08:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28622307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redqueenrises/pseuds/redqueenrises
Summary: You meet a man named Eren, and your life flips upside down. Everything you ever wanted, every dream you ever had is replaced by him. The all consuming reckless need you have for him. But when his secrets begin to unravel will it drive you apart? Or will you choose him over the life you could have, even when it means doing bad things, fucked up things, all for the sake of mad love?
Relationships: Eren Yeager & Reader, Eren Yeager/Reader, Eren Yeager/You
Comments: 4
Kudos: 13





	1. flashing lights

**Author's Note:**

  * For [reb](https://archiveofourown.org/users/reb/gifts), [the foos](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=the+foos).



The sky isn’t dark like it’s supposed to be. Not here, not in Chicago. This city is alive.

You’re sitting on your bed and looking out of the apartment window at the flashing lights, listening to the sound of the traffic below. You stand up and lean against the open window, enjoying the feeling of the fresh, cold wind biting your skin. You sigh before bringing the cigarette in your hands towards my lips, inhaling deeply and then exhaling, blowing smoke into thin air. 

Your roommate and best friend Josephine Blouse insisted on going out tonight. You gave her every excuse in the book. “I’m sick.” You claimed. “I’m too tired.” The thing is, you were telling the truth when you said those things. You’re sick and tired of Chicago. You’ve been here for a month already, more then enough time to find out that you simply don’t fit in. 

There was a time when all you wanted was to get away. You’d lived in Winthrop, Washington your entire life. A boring old town, filled with the same faces that floated in between recognizable and unrecognizable, nobody stood out. The day you got that volleyball scholarship was the happiest day of your life, and at that point you had a big life ahead of you. You wanted to go places, you were planning to go to Stanford university as soon as you graduated. Honestly, you would have applied to any college, no matter how far, if only it meant getting away from Winthrop.

The car crash changed everything.

It happened when you were 17. You broke your arm in five different places, and from there it was all over. No more volleyball, no more scholarship. Your friends went off to different states for college, Josephine included, hundreds of miles away, and you stayed in that shitty town. 

“A spirit like yours isn’t meant to be cooped up in a place like this.” Your mother had told you. “Branch out, go see the world. You can’t let the incident affect the rest of your life.”

Everybody called it that, the incident. After four years you were able to move past it. Your arm got better, the pain went away, the fear of driving went away, but the memories stayed. Some of them, anyways, the rest were all fucked up. You’d sustained severe memory loss in the crash, you still remembered the doctor telling you. Overtime, you were able to heal, but your memory was never quiet the same after that.

Sure, sometimes you still thought about what your life could have been, but maybe your mother was wrong and you DID belong in Winthrop. Coming to Chicago was a mistake, but when your best friend invited you, how could you say no? It was a chance at adventure, something your life was certainly missing. 

You realize with a start that you’ve been lost in thought, gazing out of the window into the world beyond. You turn away, leaving your room and heading towards the apartment’s kitchen. There you find your best friend, Josephine Blouse. When she sees you, she immediately checks her watch.

“Thank fuck. We’ll get there on time, for once.” She proclaims. She’s dressed in a sparkling red dress and... tennis shoes.

“Heels hurt my feet.” She explains upon seeing the look on your face. She bites into what looks like a peanut butter sandwich. You look down pointedly at the two inch heels she forced you to wear, but she just shrugs innocently. 

“I don’t want to go.” You grump, flopping onto the blue sofa and stretching your legs out. 

“Too bad.” She replies firmly, and you hear her footsteps clatter as she walks from the kitchen to the front door. “Come on.”

You get up reluctantly, and she takes your hand before you exit together, running as fast as your heels allow you to run through the cold. You both hop into her car, a black, rundown, Volkswagen Beetle. You let your head fall against the back of the seat and look out the window.

“I know it’s weird for you.” Josephine says, starting the car. “But I promise you’re gonna get used to Chicago, and when you do you’re gonna love it.”

“Whatever you say.” You reply airily.

“You just need to get laid.” She says. This makes you laugh.

“I’m a fucking virgin, Jo. You really think I’m trying to lose the card at a night club?” You ask, shaking your head. 

“I think you never know.” Josephine replies. “Wanna bet you’ll thank me for this once the night is over? It’s good for you to go out, have fun. You never know.”

You don’t respond to this, you just continue to stare out the passenger seats window, contemplating the decisions you’ll have to make soon. Summer so far has been whatever the opposite of enjoyable is. The same string of words continues to run through your mind, maybe you don’t belong here.

It’s a good fucking thing you don't listen to yourself, a good thing you didn’t pack up and leave the night before, a good thing you didn’t stay home, because if you had, you never would have met Eren Yeager.

The music from the club can be heard from a mile away, but the closer you get the more alive you feel. Finally, Josephine pulls into the parking lot and you both get out, heading towards the entrance in sync. 

You’ve never been here before, no, this is one of the few clubs in Chicago that you haven’t visited so far. If you had been here, you would have remembered it, even with your fucked up memory there’s no way you could have forgotten. The lights are flashing, one second illuminating the crowd of people, the next second leaving them in darkness. It’s enough to make someone dizzy, but it just makes you feel crazy. The good kind of crazy, the one that makes you need a drink. Josephine pulls you over to stand by a group of her friends, people you’ve met once or twice, no one you’ve really connected with. You’re able to excuse yourself, and soon enough your sitting at the bar, downing shots like it’s nothing, tossing your head back and letting the music fill your ears. Smoke courses through the air, it’s not real, just coming from a machine, but it manages to make everything even more blurry. Eventually, Josephine finds you again, and she pulls you onto the dance floor. Normally you would resist. You rarely danced, rarely let yourself loose, but at this point you don’t know if you’ll be in Chicago for much longer. This might be the only night you have, the only night left in the world, who fucking knows.

So you dance, surrounded by Josephine and her friends, you just let yourself be free. Well, semi free, you’re still aware enough to flip off the asshole who knocks into you, almost spilling his drink on you. You let your hair fall into your face as you move, every minute speeding by while the best of the music and the beating of your heart and all the hearts around you collide, and then, suddenly, everything slows.

The lights are still flashing when you see him, but the smoke clears enough so that his figure is clear. He’s dancing with a girl, she’s grinding on him, doing the most, but he’s looking at you. In that moment, everyone else fades, and you can’t see much except for his eyes, his bright, emerald colored eyes that are looking you up and down, slowly. He’s not even trying to hide it. You don’t ignore him like you would ignore most men you meet at the club, instead you keep his eyes on you as you dance. You get caught up in the dancing, the music, but he doesn’t leave your mind, not even for a moment.

You spin around, and for a minute the fact that you’re wearing two inch heels seems to completely escape your mind, but you’re hardly aware that you’re about to slip, maybe because of the alcohol, and that’s when you feel his hand against your back, pulling you back up mid fall. Once you’re standing upright again you look finally get a good look at him, standing in front of you. 

Damn. His brown hair is falling across his broad shoulders. He’s half smiling, and for some reason the look he’s giving you is so fucking sexy, but that reason disappears in his mischievous eyes. You suppose that’s where everything disappears. He’s looking at you, and you swear you’ve seen that look before. It sends a shock through you like electricity, the look in his eyes. It’s like a memory you can’t quite place. If you didn’t know better, you’d say it was love. You decide that you’re mistaking it for desire, you have to be. He has your hand in his now, and he spins you around twice before pulling you towards him. Your bodies are only inches apart.

Maybe you should kiss him, maybe you should ask him to dance with you, maybe you should ask him who the hell he is, but before you can act on any of the thoughts racing through your head, he’s pulling you off the middle of dance floor, towards the edge of the crowd. You follow him willingly, surprised by your own competence. This stranger has left you so curious, so keen to know more, maybe even to FEEL more then just his eyes on your body. 

“You’re fucking beautiful.” Is the first thing he says, and he says it unblushingly, staring into your eyes.

“Thanks?” You reply skeptically. “What’s your name?”

“My name is Eren Yeager.” 


	2. know me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eren takes you on an adventure.

“Where are we going?” You ask this stranger, this man that you met less then twenty minutes ago. Eren Yeager. You’re walking side by side with him now, and he seems so sure of which direction to go, but all you can see is the streets of Chicago, the cars whizzing by, whipping your hair into the wind. 

You guys talked for a bit, back in the club, but he didn’t ask the normal questions, he didn’t even try to have that conversation people usually have when first meeting each other.

“You don’t look like you’re from Chicago.” He had said, his eyes skimming you up and down. A shiver had run down your back at that look, that look was the kind of look that made you want to reveal all of your shitty secrets to a stranger, the secrets you usually kept buried deep inside.

“I’m not from here.” You had replied.

“I know.” He had said. You’d looked at him in confusion, trying to find a hint of humor, sarcasm on his face, but there was none. “Chicago girls are more careful around men they don’t know.”

“Good thing I’m not a Chicago girl.” You reply. You’re both standing at the back of the club, you lean against the wall as you talk to him, and you can’t help but notice how good he smells. So fucking good. There seems to be a lot of things about him that are so fucking good. The closer he leans in towards you, the stronger the feelings get, the more alert your senses are, until his face is only inches from yours, his hands placed on the wall behind you. 

“Who are you?” You ask. This can’t be normal, to meet a stranger in a club, to meet a stranger like HIM in a club. Or maybe it’s just weird for you, maybe this is normal for other people including him. Still, Eren’s presence alone casts a shadow of doubt into your mind, and you can’t help but feel like he’s bad news.

The thing about bad news is that sometimes we’re drawn to it. We can deny it all we want, but sometimes, if it catches you off guard, you can become infatuated with bad news.

“I told you, I’m Eren Yeager.” Eren answers, his voice much quieter now, almost a growl, and yet you can easily hear him over the blazing music surrounding you, everything but him is silenced. “Let’s get out of here.”

“Why should I go anywhere with you? I don’t even know you.” You reply, crossing your arms as he leans even closer to you, turning his head to whisper in your ear...

“Don’t you want to know me?”

And that’s how you ended up walking along the city streets next to Eren Yeager. Maybe you’re fucking stupid, maybe it’s him making you fucking stupid, but who cares? It’s a recklessness you’re not used to, one that you seem to be drawing from him, this stranger.

Finally, you reach a building. He leads you inside, and you find that the lobby is nice, and it becomes apparent that this is some sort of hotel, the kind that rich fuckers spend the night in. This isn’t where you belong, this doesn’t seem like the kind of place where he belongs.

“Wait.” You say, stopping in your tracks. He turns around, raising his eyebrows at you. “This is so stupid, I don’t know where we are, isn’t this trespassing? This is probably fucking dangerous-“

“Were you always such a pussy?” He asks calmly. You stare at him, dumbfounded for only a moment before your shock turns to anger. You stalk past him and towards the elevator, pressing the UP button and standing with your arms crossed. He comes up beside you, and you side eye him to find he’s wearing that half smile of his, the one that makes you feel like you’re melting.

“Were you always such an asshole?” You ask him, still staring straight ahead. This makes him laugh, and you’re surprised to find that his laugh is rather nice, and you can’t stop yourself from smiling despite the angry face you were trying to put on.

When the elevator opens and you step inside, he presses the button for floor 25. You look at him, trying to hide the fear in your eyes. You haven’t been a fan of heights in a while. Before the incident you did everything, you were a daredevil if there ever was a daredevil, but lately you’d been avoiding that shit, in fear of getting hurt again. Now it seems like you don’t have a choice. You’re already here, already flying up weightlessly towards the top floor. 

When the elevator stops and lets you both out, Eren leads the way, up one flight of stairs and towards an open door. You hesitate before stepping outside, but when you finally do your breath catches in your throat.

It’s fucking angelic. You can see the whole fucking world from here. The stars are so much closer, the buildings seem so small. The city lights are sparkling, lighting the entire world up, but when you turn to see Eren’s reaction to all of this, he’s only looking at you. 

He offers you his hand.

“Do you trust me?” He asks. You nod without hesitation, taking his hand and letting him lead you towards the edge of the building. You look down, and the reality of the situation almost makes you back up, away from the danger of falling, but he holds you firmly in place. Before you know it, he’s wrapped his arms around your waist, and you stand in front of him, looking out at what seems to be the edge of the world, but it’s only Chicago, the same city you wanted to leave this morning. Now, standing here with him, feeling the exhilaration, feeling the wind flying through your hair, feeling your legs turn to jelly because of the heights and because of the feel of his hands on you, you wonder how the fuck you could ever want to leave this place. 

“There’s a whole world out there. I’d like to show it to you.” He whispers in your ear. Normally this might make you laugh, but he seems so fucking serious, so intense that the humor fades, it’s replaced by a feeling that you won’t be able to push down, not today, not tonight.

Desire.

You turn to face him, looking into his eyes. Every one of your senses is alert, your heart beating a mile a minute, but he’s all that matters. The potential of falling doesn't matter, the height doesn’t matter, just one look into his eyes makes you higher then anything else could, makes your heart beat faster then anything else could.

But he suddenly pulls away, and you feel a slight rush of disappointment. You do your best to cover it up, ignore it as you face him once again.

“We should get going, before they call security.” He says, half smiling.

“Yea, yea we should.” You reply, smiling despite yourself and beginning the walk back to the elevator. The warmth of the inside of the building is a welcome opposite of the cold of the roof. Your heart is still fluttering, every time he brushes against you, every time you look at him. Finally, you’re back in the elevator, and he’s pushing the button that will bring you back to the first floor, back to the streets, back to the nightclub, back to Josephine, back home.

But you decide that you don’t want to go back home, and you don’t think that he does either, and if he’s not gonna make the first move... well, then screw. him.

It’s like you both react at the same time, and suddenly you’re kissing him desperately. He’s pushed you against the elevator wall, your dress already riding up your thighs as he seemingly tries to restrain himself from pulling it off you. It’s like every single feeling is magnified by a thousandfold, and his lips against yours are the sweetest thing you ever tasted, and you can hear the low growling in the back of his throat, and you know he wants more but at the same time you’re in a fucking elevator, flying towards the ground, and time is running out. He reaches around your back, grabbing your ass as you grind against him, your hands tangled up in his hair, wishing and wishing that you could have more, but you can’t, you know you can’t, not yet anyways. 

Before the doors can open and reveal you to the lobby full of people waiting to use the elevator, you’re back standing side by side, you patting down your hair and him biting his lip, his hands in his pockets. Your jitters are top fucking notch, and you’re practically shaking with the events that have occurred tonight.

When you and Eren Yeager leave the elevator, it’s like nothing even happened. For everyone else it’s like a boy and a girl just went to the roof for an adventure, but the ride down was private, it belongs to you and him.

Fuck. Chicago just got interesting.


End file.
